Anchor
by Ppleater
Summary: A series of one-shots about Gintoki and his relationships with everyone. Can be viewed as romance or friendship, whatever floats your boat.
1. Otose

"Your hair is getting a bit long."

It's a sentence Gintoki dreads hearing, and he barely manages to hide a wince as he shotguns his sake and tries to make a run for it. But the old hag has anticipated that move and is already standing in the doorway, scissors in hand.

"It's the new style." he says, forcing a laugh. It's the same excuse he used last month.

Otose doesn't bother answering, she just narows her eyes and scowls. "Tama." She says, and before he can blink, his ass is hitting a chair hard enough to bruise, and Tama is standing ominously above him, mop held at the ready.

"Can't we talk about this? It's barely past my ears, that comes in handy during the winter!" he pleads.

"It's May." Otose replies, walking behind him. "And you look like a wet dog. Head forward."

He stubbornly keeps his head up, but he feels her twist her fingers into his hair, sharp nails digging in to his scalp, and he reluctanly looks down at his knees. There's a moment of silence as she combs his hair, then she finally starts to snip at it with her scissors. Sweeping strands up between her fingers before carefully cutting off the ends. She brushes loose hair off his shouler and does the same to another lock, then another. It becomes a slow rythm. Brush, brush, snip. Brush, brush, snip.

It's soothing, he admits.

Tama is sweeping behind the counter now. He could make a break for it. But he's already lost the battle.

"You should go to a barber." Otose suggests. "Maybe they could do something with your stupid afro."

"No one does it quite right." He admits. His hair is such a burden.

"And I do?"

"You... Get pretty close."

"So why make such a fuss then?"

He feels tired. The fingers running through his hair make him sleepy. He remembers similar fingers, belonging to another person. _"You have such beautiful hair,"_ they'd say, _"like the snow."_

"Because then I owe extra." He says. And she snorts.

"Damn right you do. You still owe me for this month. I'm suprised you paid last month."

"I won big at panchinko! I can be generous when I have money to spare." He protests. His ears feel cold.

She brushes him off one last time, then moves away. He pats his head, checking for wounds. "You cut it too short again." He complains.

"That's how short it always is!" She snaps back, though her heart isn't really in it.

"Maybe I should start wearing a hat." He muses.

Otose just shakes her head with a reluctant smile. "Get out and get me my rent money."

He sighs, feeling put apon, and stands up to leave, pausing at the doorway. "Thanks granny." He says, scratching his head, before shutting the door behind him.

Otose thinks maybe she should have cut it a bit shorter.


	2. Catharine

It's been a week since Catharine has come back to work. Her face is normal now, no longer disturbingly beautiful or cheerful. She serves customers with her usual snappy demeanor and ugly expression.

Gintoki doesn't care, he's done his deed, paid her back and moved on. He tries not to dwell on depressing things.

So he doesn't know why he's sitting awkwardly at one of the tables while Catharine pours him a drink. She hasn't spoken for the past five minutes, but he feels like she wants to. Like there's something she has to tell him. He hates this type of stupid drama.

"What kind of service is this?" he wonders out loud, "Shouldn't I be served by a friendly beauty? Where's Tama when you need her?" Though to be honest, Tama would be just as awkward. She doesn't have a good grasp of human behavior.

Catharine stops pouring his drink, barely at the halfway point. He probably should have waited a few more seconds.

"Sakata-" Catharine starts, but she bites her lip before she can continue, and sits down across from him, bottle forgotten on the table. Gintoki eyes it pleadingly, but she doesn't take the hint.

"We don't get along very often." Catharine says, blatantly stating the obvious. "But I'd like to think we don't hate each other..." She pauses, and looks at him, waiting for him to disagree.

He picks up his glass and swirls it around before taking a sip. He says nothing.

She continues; "I've never done anything for you, but you've helped me out quite often. Usually I'd be greedy. I'm a thief, I take, I never give." She takes the bottle, finally, and tips it into his glass, filling it to the brim. "But even thieves can repay a debt sometimes." She slides the bottle across the table, then stands up. "Consider it on the house." She says, and she leaves him with his drink.

"You call this repaying me?" He grumbles, but he picks up the glass and gulps it down. It's good liquor, he shouldn't waste it.


End file.
